Shattered Glass
by livesruined-bloodshed
Summary: May, Coulson, Fitz, Daisy, and Jemma go to therapy. First chapter is preliminary meetings; next ones will be more in-depth single sessions. Pairings will show up more in later chapters.


**A/N:** I wrote most of this before season 3 was released, so there is some canon divergence, particularly in May's line (maybe it was wishful thinking that I wrote her coming back so soon to help Jemma. _Sigh._ ) I've also left Jemma's return and current condition somewhat ambiguous in this chapter, but it could be divergent. She'll be involved quite a bit more in later chapters.  
There will also be more Philinda and Fitzsimmons later! And some minor Huntingbird.

* * *

"We've talked about this, Agent May. You're stalling."

"It's a waste of money. And time. Andrew can do you and the kids, but…"

"We have allies everywhere, remember. And Dr. Garner will have his hands full with Sk-Daisy and her team. That's what he does. Dr. Stewart is happy to help us… humans," he laughs lightly. "These are just short preliminary meetings. And we'll see from there if it's going to continue."

"Shouldn't we be focusing on Agent Simmons?"

He smiles a bit sadly. "That's exactly what Fitz said."

"I left vacation early to help her."

"Exactly. You gave that up, so you need to assimilate back into the job. And… you went on that vacation for a reason. Maybe Dr. Stewart can help you with… all of that."

She sighs, running her fingers through her thinning hair, and opens her mouth to speak, but Coulson beats her words.

"Please, May? I won't tell you you need it, but… you could use it as much as any of us."

"Fine," she rolls her eyes. "I'll tell him all about how you roped me into this with your goddamn puppy eyes."

He smiles. "I always do."

She fights the curve of her own lips, grateful that her agreement appears to have at least diluted his anger, and leaves his office, succumbing to her urge to smile once his quiet "Thank you, Melinda" reaches her on her way out.

* * *

Dr. Stewart arrives at two o'clock the next day, and she regrets her decision as soon as she sees him. It's not like she thinks he's a bad guy; in fact, he's visibly warm, and kind, and she gets the sense that she might be comfortable with him. Comfortable talking to him. That's what scares her more than anything.

They meet in an office she's never been in before and suspects hasn't been used since Fury's time. There are paintings of flowers in vases on the walls that make her scoff, much to Stewart's apparent amusement. She tucks the couch's single pillow into her arms as she lowers herself onto a couch that is too comfortable, not taking her eyes off of him as he places his hands in his lap and forms his mouth into what she's sure is supposed to be an inviting smile but which only succeeds in making her mildly sick.

"So, Melinda," he begins.

"May… if you would."

He laughs, and she narrows her eyes.

"I take it this isn't your first rodeo, May."

She scoffs. "What do you mean?"

"You've been to therapy before."

"I have."

He gesticulates and looks at her expectantly. "Is that all?"

"What do you want? I went a few times in high school, and then when I became an agent, they recommended that I go again, and so I did." She crosses her arms over the pillow against her chest. "And… Andrew and I had marriage counseling once or twice, but it was… not good."

"Was any of it good?"

She sighs. "It's not my thing."

"So why come back?"

"Coulson." It comes out without thought and reddens her cheeks.

"I know the whole team is doing it, but he can't have made you."

"No. I mean…" she rolls her eyes. "I agreed to this… because of Coulson. And I'm putting up with you because of Coulson. He didn't make me. It makes him feel better, and that's… that's the best I can do right now. We could sit in silence, and that might be easier, but it's not going to make things any easier with _him_. For him."

Stewart looks annoyingly pleased with her unexpected openness. "But why do you need to make him feel better? Is that your responsibility, or do you just want to?"

She sighs, staring at her hands in an uncharacteristic display of timidity. It's a minute before she finally grumbles, "Both."

He raises his eyebrows.

"I betrayed him. For a long time, I lied to him about something important. And he hasn't forgiven me. It's as simple as that."

"But hasn't he forgiven you? You say he wants you to be here. He must want you to be happy."

"Coulson just… He cares so much. He cares about everyone…" She sniffs and looks to the right, unable to keep her eyes on Stewart. "Even me."

He smiles, and she can't help but see the kindness in his eyes when hers jump back to his face. Just like Andrew. Just like Phil. Just like Skye. The sort of person that's so selfless, so kind, that it hurts to be with them.

"He's not alone, May. There are a lot of people here who want very much for you to be happy. And you know that."

She sighs and stands. "Are we done here?"

"Yes, I suppose we can wrap up for the day. But I'd like to see you again. When are you free?"

They schedule the appointment, and when she leaves the room, she realizes she's been holding her breath. Her exhale is shaky, like a quiet, dry sob, but strong all the same.

* * *

"Is it Leopold or…"

"Fitz." His leg jiggles against the plush leather couch, and his hands shake as always. He stares at the clock on the wall and flicks his eyes to his own watch.

"Are you... in a hurry to get back, Fitz?"

He doesn't seem to notice the question, but his eyes gleam as he finally moves them to Dr. Stewart.

"You can help. Jemma, she's... She needs your help. Or somebody's."

"This is your teammate that was just found?"

"My _partner_ , yeah. And it's been five days. And they won't let you try to help her?"

"She isn't quite ready for this kind of therapy yet. I'll be happy to help when Director Coulson feels the time is right."

"Then why don't they let me stay with her? I don't have time for this! No offense, but I don't need therapy. I'm fine. See?"

His hands refuse to stay still. There are dark circles like tilted crescent moons under his eyes, which his small smile doesn't reach. They dart from the doctor's face to his clock and back again.

Dr. Stewart blinks and raises his eyebrows.

"Okay, so, I'm not... all the way... recovered yet, but there are more important things-"

"Fitz. I've been hired to speak with all of you. There's no getting out of this now. You might as well take advantage of this time, yes?"

He looks down, his leg falling flat against the leather, and nods.

"Tell me about Jemma."

He inhales a shaky breath and lets it out slowly, in small bursts. "She's… Well, she's my partner. Has been since we first got paired together in the Academy. An'... she left. For a while. But then she came back. Things were really bad for a bit. But then they weren't so bad anymore, at least, I thought... And then she left again, or…" He squeezes his eyes shut and touches his temples. "She got taken. But we just found her. I found her. It was like a storybook. I even carried her all the way. I didn't think I could, but I did. She's so small, y'know? And she's even smaller now." His face falls a bit before he shakes his head as if to physically clear it. "But she was different. She is different. I told myself I wouldn't care if she was, as long as I had her back, but she won't talk. She barely even looks at me. I don't know what happened to her, what she saw. I don't know if she remembers anythin'. She's just... so far away now, it seems like. I wonder if this is how she felt when I woke up." He clenches his hands together but can't seem to stop them from shaking. "I wonder if I'm... m-making it worse for her too. Like she said she was with me."

There is silence until he laughs sharply. "Sorry, Doc. Just got right into it, huh?"

Dr. Stewart uncrosses his legs and leans forward. "Thank you for sharing that, Fitz. But we have a long way to go before we've gotten 'right into it,' don't you think?"

Fitz sighs and resumes jiggling his leg, eyes darting to his watch once more.

"I'll let you go soon, but let's set up a second appointment. There's a lot we need to talk about."

He jumps to his feet, hands the doctor a paper copy of his schedule, and exits immediately, barely remembering to instruct him to "Email me" on the way out of the door.

* * *

"So, Director Coulson..."

"Please, call me Phil."

"So, Phil. You arranged this. You'll be my first willing patient. What did you intend to accomplish?"

They smile unendingly at each other in a battle of warmth. Coulson sniffs a laugh as he realizes he's hoping to out-perform his own therapist in approachability.

"I wanted to... learn to be better. To erase the hardships of the past year on myself and my team."

It's what he'd told the team in the debrief. It seemed about right, in any case. He knew he needed Dr. Stewart's help to get past everything that had happened since... since he died, if he was being honest. But that didn't mean he had to be honest about that need. This was for the kids, mostly, and for May.

"I'm sorry, but I can only help you accept those changes, not erase them. You and your team have been through quite a bit, and you won't help them by hoping to pretend it didn't all happen."

He nods, eyes down. "I understand that. Thank you."

"So I've gathered that one of your team members went missing and was just found. Can you tell me about that?"

"It was Simmons. The Kree rock took her I-don't-know-where, and she still won't talk much. She won't look at me, or even Skye or Fitz. They've all been struggling for a bit, but we had some hope that things would get better after Skye agreed to start the Inhuman team. But then…"

"You're worried about her… about them, yes?"

"She's…" he laughs darkly, "She's just a kid."

"Not anymore, though, right? So much has happened to all of them. Maybe growing up... isn't such a bad thing."

He shakes his head. "We'll see."

Dr. Stewart smiles, understanding Coulson's doubt, but the tension in the room doesn't go away. Seeing himself in a position he had so often tried to avoid brings Coulson to question who he is anymore. He's never seen this side of a conversation before.

"Do you think your coworkers blame you for what's happened to them?"

"They do blame me. Or, at least… they should."

There is silence, and then, "Why do you say that?"

He laughs, a sharp and humorless sound. "It's… most of it is my fault. I got so wrapped up in TAHITI, and I started holding grudges, and I ignored them, and I let this whole 'second SHIELD' thing happen right under my nose, and somehow since I started this team, we've been betrayed, and we've almost lost everyone at least twice, and we _have_ lost some, and FitzSimmons aren't FitzSimmons anymore, and I don't even know half of what's going on with Skye… _Daisy_ and the Inhumans anymore, and I thought I had it figured out, but I don't. And my fidus Achates couldn't even have a _month_ to heal from whatever the hell it was she was going through, couldn't even get the hell away from here for a _month_ , because of all this." He pauses, his left arm coming up instinctively and resting against his forehead while the other hand rubs his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling."

"No, it's… It's good. A step toward the right thing, yes? Although... I'm afraid you're starting to sound like your engineer, if that gives you any indication of how good it is that you called this meeting."

Coulson snorts. "You're right."

"So I think I'll be seeing more of all of your team, if that's okay with you?"

"Yes. I think, at this point, that's what's best... In a couple days, if we don't have any breakthroughs, I'm going to send Simmons to see you too. If... you think that's a good idea."

"Absolutely. I've handled a couple cases like hers in my day: PTSD, memory loss, whatever it is that's making her unresponsive. I'll do my best to help."

"Thank you." They both stand, find the best date and time for a second meeting, and shake hands. Coulson leaves feeling a kind of hope that he's surprised he recognizes at this point.

* * *

"Hi, Daisy."

"Hi, Dr. Garner. How was vacation?"

"Ah. So we're still trading stories?"

She smirks for a minute, but her face falls soon. "It's easier that way."

He reaches over the cherrywood coffee table to touch her shoulder, lingering long enough for her to feel the warmth of his hand. She offers a small smile in return, and he readjusts himself, leaning back in his chair in a mirror of her casual placement on the couch.

"It was Maui. Of course it was good."

"So are you and May..."

He laughs. "No, we are not... whatever you're thinking. Friends again, yes, but nothing more."

"Is there someone else?"

"You've already asked two questions, Daisy. It's my turn."

She crosses her arms, her shoulders buried in the supple fabric of the couch. "Hit me with your best shot, Dr. Garner."

"Let's start with the obvious. I've been calling you Daisy. I know that's what your parents named you, but I haven't exactly heard the best things about them. Can you tell me why you decided to go through with the name change?"

She chews on her cheek. "Cal named me that."

"Your mother had no part in it?"

"I like to…" She laughs. "I like to pretend my mother had no part in any of it."

He writes something down in the legal pad in his hand, but Daisy doesn't strain to read it like before. She knows it's something along the lines of _in denial_ , and she can't handle that right now.

"So, your mother was bad. And your father was - is good."

"Well, it's not… It's not as easy as that. You know." She runs her fingers through her hair and laughs at herself for still being a bit surprised when they reach the tips so much more quickly than when it was inches longer. She tries not to remember the day she dragged Fitz to the salon with her, hoping to fill the gaping holes in both their hearts with vanity, only to watch him tear his hair out, gritting his teeth, sobbing, screaming into her shoulder, when they returned and received the report that the rock had melted again while they were out for the first time since it swallowed Jemma.

"Daisy?" Andrew's voice is calm and caring as usual.

"Yeah…" No, it's not as easy as that. She's not really sure what's good anymore.

"I understand your mother… tried to hurt you."

"To kill me," she corrects too easily.

"Yes," he says, scribbling fervently on the legal pad again. "And do you… think about that often?"

She tightens her arms around her chest and rubs her hands against them. "I don't know. It's not… It's not like it's the worst thing she's done."

He puts down the pen and searches her face for a long time. "Trying to kill her daughter isn't the worst thing she did?"

"Well, sh-she succeeded with a lot of people. She killed…" Daisy realizes her eyes are stinging and lifts her hand to cover her mouth without anticipating the sob it stifles.

Andrew places his hand on her knee, the notepad forgotten in his lap. "She killed a lot of people?"

Daisy shakes her head. "No… I mean, yes. She did. But I couldn't…"

"You couldn't what, Daisy?"

"I couldn't help them. There's no way."

"Of course not."

"No, no, no, you don't understand." She feels a surge of empathy for Fitz; she never knew how it felt to search for words, to want to crawl inside herself, to be so unsure of everything. But she doesn't think she can breathe in this office, with Dr. Garner's willingness to listen echoing off every wall. Suddenly the world feels too small, and the picture frames and baubles and coffee mugs on his desk are shaking, and she shoves her palms against her temples and closes her eyes tightly and tries to breathe slowly like May taught her, but she can't stop it.

The door opens, and footsteps rush toward her. Her emotions are always so much louder than everyone else's, these days, and she supposes they can't be ignored, much as she would prefer that to accidentally breaking things every time she's upset. And she thought she was getting better.

"Skye."

Her eyes open at that, but she barely chokes out a correction before Coulson's arms are around her and she's clinging to him like a child, bringing down her heart rate with the familiarity of his smell and the warmth of his proximity. When she looks up, there is shattered glass on the floor, but he is smiling at her, and she sees her team behind him: Bobbi lingering at the doorway, more unsure than Daisy's ever seen her. Hunter wringing his hands beside her. Mack running his hand over his head, mumbling, "You're okay, Tremors." Fitz looking concerned, his arm around a distant Jemma. And May, strong-faced and bitter as always.

Maybe they need this. Talk therapy with professionals, getting their feelings out. But she can't help doubting it will bring back what they used to be.


End file.
